Should He Stay Or Should He Go, Now?
by J Lahoud
Summary: Will Ginger seduce her surfer? Will Gilligan get Mary Ann? Is Duke Williams a changed man?
1. Chapter 1

**Part One**

The reverse tsunami was cancelled. Or more accurately it was postponed for 24 hours. In the wee hours of the morning on which Duke was to depart for Hawaii the Professor, while triple checking his figures, found a mistake. It didn't deny the reverse tsunami, but it changed the timetable and that, the Professor feared, might change everything.

After all Duke hadn't been interested in returning home after meeting Ginger and Mary Ann. It had taken not only rejection by the girls, but a ruse in which they pretended to be romantically involved with Gilligan and the Professor to convince him to get back on the board. With another day to think things over or uncover the castaways trick the Professor worried the brawny surfer might easily backslide.

Immediately he woke up the Skipper, who'd been bunking with him while Duke used his hut, and it was agreed a Plan B needed to be put into action. Skipper would break the news to Duke then stay with him all day to insure he kept preparing physically for the big wave while also making certain he didn't have a change of heart. Meanwhile the Professor and Gilligan would stick close to Ginger and Mary Ann respectively. If Duke should stumble upon either pair they would continue their amorous display by holding hands, hugging and kissing if necessary.

A half hour before departure time Skipper made his way over to the boy's hut. After so many failed rescues he was not about to let anything interfere with this one. If Duke balked Skipper was determined to do everything in his power, up to and including physical violence, to get Duke on that tsunami.

When Skipper arrived he found Duke doing chin-ups on a low hanging beam. He had been awake for hours working his muscles into peak condition. Upon noticing Skipper Duke jumped down drew himself up to full height, squared his broad shoulders, expanded his powerful chest and pronounced himself ready to hit the beach. If the Skipper had any lingering doubts about Duke's ability to withstand the rigors of a second tsunami so close to the first one they quickly evaporated. Duke stood before him like a Greek God in cutoff shorts, leaving Skipper to pray that he didn't have to fight him.

"Change of plans," Skipper announced tentatively. "The reverse tsunami's been pushed back by a day. But the Professor says everything will be a go tomorrow morning."

This was the moment of truth Skipper thought. He looked into Duke's eyes for a clue as to what was going on inside, but Duke, who had proudly proclaimed he was a dropout from the second grade, was about as deep as a kiddie pool.

The handsome surfer brought a hand up to rub his chin and Skipper swallowed nervously as an enormous bicep rolled up in Duke's arm. Then just as Skipper was mentally preparing his best argument for rescue Duke smiled and declared, "No problem, Daddio. Just more time for me to fine tune the muscle machine!"

"Great," breathed Skipper, relieved. "I was thinking I could stay with you today and help with your training."

"Sounds good," replied Duke. "We can start right now with a five mile run."

"A five mile…what?"

Skipper's face dropped, but before he could protest Duke had bolted past him and was off toward the jungle.

"Oh brother," grumbled Skipper as he coaxed his considerable bulk into a slow jog. "This plan better not fail…"

While the Skipper labored to keep up with Duke the girls were hoping to take advantage of the situation to work their own agenda on Gilligan and the Professor.

It was no secret Mary Ann longed for something more than just a platonic relationship with Gilligan. She had always found him sweet, funny, caring, compassionate and even cute in a geeky kind of way. She wasn't looking to get all hot and heavy with the child-like First Mate, but she always thought it would be nice to have him hold her hand, take her on long walks and maybe do some light necking like people their age were probably doing right now back at home. If something blossomed beyond that she certainly wouldn't be against it.

As for Ginger her desire for the Professor was borne out of limited options as much as anything else. After they were rescued Ginger would go back to dating Hollywood hunks while the Professor would disappear into the halls of academia, but that, she thought, didn't preclude them from having a little fun while they were stuck in this sandy Purgatory. Besides she did find the Professor good looking and he had always gone out of his way to be nice to her mixing up lipstick and makeup out of indigenous plants, as well as, coming up with other gadgets and sundry items to make life on the island more bearable for the girls.

So it was with thoughts of romance in their minds and a touch of lust in their hearts that the girls were going to try to use this time together to bring these reluctant men around to their way of thinking. Of course they knew it wouldn't be easy. Ginger had described her kiss of the Professor the night before as having all the passion of licking a postage stamp. While Mary Ann still couldn't believe that a grown man hearing someone reference the "Birds and Bees" could actually think they were talking about…well, birds and bees. It would, they agreed, take all their womanly charms and then some to pull this off.

Part Two…to follow…


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

Skipper was exhausted. He'd only made it through about two miles of the five mile run, but that was about two more miles than he'd run since Navy Boot Camp. He sat in the shade of a palm tree and counted off as Duke went through another set of sit-ups.

"97…98…99…and 100"

Duke popped up in one motion while the Skipper labored to his feet knees creaking as if it were him and not Duke who had done a couple hundred knee bends that day.

As Duke checked himself out he couldn't help but notice Skipper's ample belly jutting out next to his own washboard abs.

"Admiral, you gotta start hittin' the gym," said Duke indicating the severe juxtaposition between their two midsections. "Man, you drop, say, 25 pounds and tighten that upper body I bet a guy like you would do alright with the wahines."

Skipper laughed, uncomfortable but not embarrassed. Sure he'd never had the body of a Chippendale Dancer, but he hadn't always been the Chip-A-Hoy Dancer he was today. Still half a day of watching Duke had put his body issues to rest.

"Believe me Duke," he said shaking his head, "if this is the kind of effort it takes to get a body that catches the ladies'eyes I'll stick to being fat, alone and happy."

"It's your funeral daddio, but if you ever wanna work on a six pack," Duke pointed at his own stomach, "look me up when we're back in Hawaii."

"Why would I need a six pack when I've already got a keg," Skipper patted his own rotund middle and laughed. Then he quickly decided to change the subject before Duke had him on the ground trying to work off 25 years of steak dinners and draft beer. The only crunches he'd be doing when they got back to civilization would have the word "Nestle's" in front of them.

"So I gotta hand it to you Duke you've really maintained your focus on the reverse tsunami. For a minute there this morning I thought I might have to wrestle you on to the surfboard."

Skipper grinned as Duke looked at him with one eyebrow cocked. "Good thing for you, pops, it didn't come to that," warned the bronzed hunk as he bounced his rippling chest muscles up and down a few times to emphasize his point.

"Uh…yes…," said Skipper shifting uneasily and making a half-hearted attempt to pretend he was just joking.

"Besides," Duke continued, "once I saw the girls with Gilligan and the Professor I knew I was outta here on the next wave, tsunami or not."

Skipper thought the latter part of that statement odd, but he could see Duke was getting wound up so he let him go on.

"…I mean initially I thought Ginger and Mary Ann were just playing hard to get. But any chicks that'd choose hamburger like the Professor and Gilligan," Duke nearly choked on this last name, "over prime choice filet of muscleman like yours truly must be suffering from full blown Island Madness!"

Duke held his arms out to the side palms up so the Skipper could see for himself just how insane that decision was. At that point Skipper had to bow his head and cough into his hand to hide the satisfied smile spreading across his face. Sure fooling someone who has more muscles than gray matter, like Duke, was not exactly Houdini-esque, but it felt good to know they had pulled it off so completely.

"Well, there's an old saying," Skipper mused sympathetically. "Women, you can't live with 'em…uh…you know I never did know the end of that one."

The captain guffawed at his own insipid joke. Duke look puzzled then dropped down to start another set of pushups. As the Skipper gingerly lowered himself under the palm tree and prepared to start a new count all he could think was how it looked like smooth sailing from here on. If he had only remembered the last time he had that thought…about two hours out from Honolulu aboard the S.S. Minnow.

If things on Skipper's end were going well the same could not be said for the girl's designs on love. Ginger had been cooped up all morning in the Professor's hut amid a silence so complete she'd later explain to Mary Ann that she had trouble getting a pause in edgewise.

Problem was the Professor's rare mistake had caused in him a compulsive need to insure that even the tiniest detail of this rescue attempt came off without a hitch. To the Professor science wasn't just a course you took to get through school. It was the means to answer all questions and accomplish all things. It was his religion, his life and he knew it would be the castaway's salvation if only distractions and his own bumbling didn't let it down.

Against this Ginger did what she did best trying to entice the Professor with her many enviable physical attributes. Early on she realized it would be necessary pull out all stops. So sneaking next door she changed from her drab homemade S.S. Minnow duffel bag dress into one of the sultry evening gowns she'd been keeping in storage.

Her choice was a particularly provocative number that squeezed her in and popped her out in all the right places. Once voted Ms. Hourglass Ginger couldn't help but think, as she admired herself in the mirror, that even hourglasses would turn green with envy if they could see her now.

"Hi Professor," Ginger purred upon her return, her curves perfectly framed in the hut's doorway.

The Professor turned from his work for the first time. "Wow," he exclaimed looking Ginger up and down.

The sultry siren broke out in a self-satisfied smile. If Duke could count the number of women who had resisted him on one hand Ginger could do the same for men while wearing a mitten. Even a carnally challenged academic like the Professor couldn't hold out against her overwhelming sex appeal. After all, she thought, he's still just a man and she could always get them thinking with their "other" head when she set her mind to it.

"I thought you might like it," said the beauty as she ran a hand seductively down a figure that had more curves than Lombard Street.

"Actually I love it," gushed the Professor. "You really outdid yourself."

Now the Professor was up and moving toward Ginger arms outstretched. She took a step inside the hut, closed her eyes, threw back her head and waited for the Professor's embrace.

"Ouch!" she cried, stunned. She felt a small stabbing pain on each of her hips. "What are you doing?"

The Professor was crouched down with a pinch of Ginger's dress between each of his thumbs and forefingers.

"This is fantastic," he exclaimed. "I didn't know we had material like this on the island. It appears to have the perfect elasticity for strapping provisions to Duke's surfboard, though we will have to test it first."

"Stop that," demanded the startled starlet. "I'm not cutting up my favorite gown for you to experiment on."

The Professor pulled back duly chastised. Exasperated, Ginger folded her arms and decided to confront Dr. Hinckley directly.

"Where are your manners Professor. Haven't you ever entertained a girl in your home before?"

Snapped out of his scientific reverie by the actress' tone Professor thought for a moment then answered, "Well, there was my lab assistant at college. After a fire at her apartment I let her stay with me in the faculty dorm. We even shared a bed."

Ginger's eyes grew wide, her hopes buoyed for the first time. "Professor you sly dog…and how did that work out?"

"Let's just say I never heard any complaints…"

Ginger felt flush. Finally it appeared the raging lion of lust beneath that owlish exterior was finally clawing its way to the surface. She moved closer, pursed her lips…

"…of course it's hard to hear from the top bunk, but I think she slept soundly."

Ginger pulled up abruptly, her hopes sunk. "Oh Professor," she cried through narrowed eyes. "You sure know how to hurt a girl!"

And with that Ginger turned on her high heels and stormed out of the hut as a confused Professor watched and wondered whether he was going to get that fabric to work with or not.

As for Mary Ann, well, at least she was outdoors having coaxed Gilligan to a quiet spot on the other side of the island under the guise of collecting more provisions for Duke's trip.

Problem was even though there was virtually no chance of the beach bum stumbling upon them Gilligan was still as nervous as Roman Polanski at a Sweet Sixteen, jumping at every rustle in the bush and babbling on incoherently about Skinny Mulligan's braces or his list of favorite Mosquitoes songs. Getting close to him was harder than corralling a greased pig which Mary Ann knew about firsthand from her 4-H days.

"Gilligan if you're worried about Duke don't be. He's with Skipper right now, probably exercising at the lagoon or in your hut having lunch."

"Well you can never be too sure," said the scrawny sailor peering around the nearest tree while also contemplating the idea of his own lunch which his stomach was telling his brain was overdue.

It was moments like this that made the sumptuous Ms. Summers wonder why she persisted in pursuit of her reluctant Romeo, but something beyond mere logic kept her forging ahead.

"Besides you don't need to worry Ginger and I put Duke in his place. He might be a cad, but he isn't dangerous. You won't have to fight him."

Gilligan turned, stopped fidgeting for a moment and looked Mary Ann straight in the eye. "I'm not worried about that. If I had to, Mary Ann, I'd take on a gang of bikers to try and protect you."

All at once the farmer's daughter forgot her complaints and remembered just exactly why she put up with so much when it came to this Seafaring Sweetie. Her heart swelled up in her chest like the Grinch in that Dr. Seuss book or the Skipper's after devouring an entire triple cheese pizza though in terms of the latter Mary Ann's did so in a healthier and completely metaphorical sense.

But that still begged the question if Gilligan wasn't frightened of Duke what was he afraid of? And then it hit the wholesome honey like one of her coconut cream pies in the face. The fractious first mate was afraid of her! Or to put a finer point on it if Duke did show up Gilligan would rather fight him than fool him.

Mary Ann couldn't believe it. She thought the pair had made strides the night before, kissing and hugging intermittently for over an hour never sure when the surfing Samson would be watching. It couldn't have been that awful, could it?

"Gilligan," Mary Ann queried gently, "how did it make you feel when we were playacting for Duke last night?"

"Well, today my lips were a little chapped and my knee is still stiff from where you were sitting on it."

"No, I mean, how did it make you feel inside," Mary Ann countered a little testily.

"Oh," said Gilligan thinking for a second and dropping a bag of fruit at his feet. "At first I was kinda anxious, but then I started to get this warm feeling in my stomach like I just had a bowl of Wheatena."

"You know," the corn-fed cutie confided, "I could make you feel like that now."

"Really?" said the starving sailor over the grumblings of his stomach. "But where would we get Wheatena on the island. Maybe the Professor could mix some up if he had the right ingredients, but wheat doesn't grow in the tropics. Does it? Then again…"

Mary Ann sighed. The potential love of her life had completely missed the point and was off on another tangential roll. And there was no stopping him now.

"…I heard you can make apple pie from crackers…who thought that up…I mean you must be pretty smart to replace sweet, juicy apples with dry, salty crackers and get the same thing…I bet if that guy was here he could make Wheatena outta coconuts and palm leaves or something…and what's in shoo-fly pie or head cheese…yuck!..."

Gilligan was now sitting on the ground, still rambling and eating from the fruit that they had picked for Duke. Feeling hopeless Mary Ann dropped down across from him, pulled a banana from the bag, peeled it and bit down violently. Too young or too lady-like to realize the amount of frustration her sub-conscious was trying to vent in that very action.

Part Three to follow…


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three**

As early afternoon came over the island activity was picking up, attitudes were shifting, heck, even the Howells were out and about. The only constant seemed to be the man most integral to the rescue plan, Duke himself, but if history was any indicator even that was subject to change.

At the girls' hut Ginger took off her sexy evening gown and stored it safely away from the prying, though not in the way she hoped for, hands of the Professor. She sat down at the makeup table and checked her hair and eye shadow though at this point she wasn't sure why.

She was tired of being stuck on the island, she was tired of spending every night alone, but most of all she was tired of chasing the Professor and never knowing what she was going to get in return. She recalled her first roommate when she arrived in Hollywood saying, "This town isn't Sodom and Gomorrah, but you can see them from here." At least, she thought, in a place like that she knew what everyone wanted. Here things weren't so simple. She had always longed to be back in Tinsel Town, but who could've guessed, in the end, it would be because it offered less drama.

Down at the beach Skipper had spent about as much time with Duke as he could stand. Truth be told he had never been a fan of the Longboard Lothario right from the start. It was Skipper, after all, who initially doubted Duke's story and claimed he'd only been out 2 or 3 hours even though the veteran seaman knew full well they were hundreds, if not thousands, of miles from the nearest civilized island.

Problem was the corpulent captain had been losing girls to guys like Duke for as long as he could remember. Whether it was greasers with hot rods or surfers with muscles Skipper was never one of the "pretty boys", as he called them, who seemed to have what the women wanted.

To make matters worse Skipper began to wonder why he was stuck baby-sitting this narcissistic nincompoop while the Professor and Gilligan were off doing who knows what with Ginger and Mary Ann. Skipper had always had a thing for Ginger and as he often joked to Gilligan one day he was hoping to show her that "thing". As for Mary Ann he knew he'd always been more a father figure to her, but then she was a rural farm girl and hadn't he read somewhere that those folks were generally more agreeable to "family couplings".

Even if it was just a soft voice to listen to and some tender hands to rub his aching shoulders it would've beat what Duke had them doing for the past hour-cutting bamboo poles, rolling boulders out of the jungle and now searching the boy's hut for rope to make more homemade barbells.

"Man, when I get home and tell this story I'm gonna have more chicks on me than a bag of birdseed," said the castaways' latest savior as he admired himself in the wall mirror.

"Yes…wonderful," replied Skipper barely able to hide his contempt.

"I bet they'll even let me play myself in the movie about this," stated the studly surfer while running a hand through his sun-bleached hair. Then he quickly added, "But I'd make them get another girl to play Ginger, you know."

Skipper liked this even less. He was particularly proud of the actress for fending off the advances of someone who in many ways seemed her perfect match. Then again, Skipper mused, a marriage of two egos like that would certainly end in divorce and a battle over who would get custody of the mirrors anyway.

Then suddenly Skipper remembered the diet plan for Duke the Professor had given him that morning. He pulled it from his back pocket and found a particular recipe, "hey Duke, how'd you like if I fixed you up one of the Professor's patented Papaya Protein Potions."

"Sure thing Admiral," said Duke finally tearing himself away from his own reflection. He reached out and grabbed the coil of rope in Skipper's hand, "just bring it down to the clearing where I'll be puttin' together my jungle gym."

Skipper chuckled politely. Duke tilted his head like a retriever hearing a dog whistle before he was finally able to get his own feeble play on words.

"Uh, I'll get right on that Duke," replied Skipper. Then he waited till Duke was safely out of sight, pulled the door closed, dropped into his hammock and decided to catch a much needed nap. At this point, he thought, what could go wrong…right?

"Mary Ann? What are you doing here?" said Ginger shocked to see her roommate slamming the hut door in a huff.

"Oh, it's Gilligan," moaned Mary Ann. In her eyes Ginger could see the same anger and frustration she'd just witnessed in the mirror.

"What happened?" queried the starlet trying to be sympathetic, but secretly pleased that she wasn't the only one who struck out.

"I just can't take it anymore," the farmer's daughter complained. "I've tried everything- going slow, being aggressive, trying to trick him, but I just can't get through. If only he'd let down his guard…even for two minutes."

"With Gilligan," cracked the red-headed party girl, "two minutes is probably all you'd need."

Mary Ann's eyes narrowed, her face turning into a scowl. She could complain or make jokes about Gilligan, but no one else. Besides hadn't Duke taught them both a lesson about judging books by their cover. For all they knew Gilligan's shy, slightly goofy exterior was hiding a raging volcano of passion. Even if it didn't Mary Ann figured she'd have fun trying to turn him into one.

"So what happened with you and the Professor?" she questioned, turning the tables knowing full well Ginger wouldn't be in the hut with her hair pinned up if she'd managed to seduce her brainy beau.

"The Professor," snorted Ginger with derision, "has problems. Any man that doesn't get excited over the sight of me in a skin-tight evening gown isn't a real man!"

"Ginger, you're not suggesting the Professor is uh…uh…uh…," the unenlightened country girl struggled for the proper term.

"That's exactly what I'm suggesting…he's a robot!" cried Ginger. "All brains, no heart!"

"Oh, Ginger, what are we going to do?"

"Well the way I see it if all goes according to plan we'll be rescued by this time next week and they'll be photographers everywhere. I say we forget about the Professor and Gilligan, put on our suits and work on our tans."

"Sunbathing?" Mary Ann said concerned. "But isn't there a chance Duke will be down at the lagoon?"

"So we won't go to the lagoon. We'll go to that secret spot we found that one time," Ginger smiled mischievously.

Mary Ann blushed, an embarrassed look crossing her face.

"It's O.K.," chuckled Ginger as she handed Mary Ann her black one-piece. "This time we can leave our swimsuits _on_!"

By this time the Howells had only been up for a couple of hours. Whether they were truly incompetent or more like the husband who puts away dirty plates so he'll never be asked to wash the dishes again the millionaire and his wife had long ago been exempted from chores.

They had finished a late breakfast and were returning from their midday constitutional when they were surprised on the path leading back to the huts by a figure they thought long gone.

"Egads, it's you!" wailed Mr. Howell stunned by the sight of Duke.

Bringing up her opera glasses Mrs. Howell also cried out, "Thurston, what is he still doing here?"

Having put the embarrassment of the girls' rejection behind him Duke didn't want any type of scene that might bring the pair running to investigate so he tried to break the news as gently as possible. "The tsunamis been pushed back till tomorrow," explained Duke as he looked for a way past the wealthy pair.

Having not seen any of the other castaways that morning and noticing the considerable length of rope in the surfer's hand Mr. Howell took a defensive posture; drawing his cane up in front of Lovey and himself.

"How can we be certain? You could be lying like you lied to us about your regal title."

Duke shook his head, "Man, where are the cats with the butterfly nets when you need 'em?"

"My word, Thurston," exclaimed the former Ms. Wentworth, "are you going to let him speak to us that way?"

"Certainly not! Sir, I was going to forgive your earlier indiscretion, but now I plan on reporting you to Scotland Yard, Buckingham Palace and the Royal Yacht and Polo Club for your behavior. I demand your full legal name immediately."

Little did the Wizard of Wall Street know Duke was sensitive about his given name. He thought it outdated and unbefitting a ladies' man like himself. He'd been Duke ever since he landed in Hawaii with nothing but a surfboard and a set of barbells and he wasn't about to give up his real name now.

"Why don't you loons step aside and let Big Daddy get on with his business?" said the muscleman as he held up the rope and took a step forward.

Fearing for his safety Mr. Howell pulled on the end of his cane, drew forth a polished, gold sword and brandished it threateningly. Duke simply smiled at what looked to him like and oversized letter opener. Even in capable hands he thought it unable to leave more than a scratch on his rock hard physique. Briefly he contemplated snatching the blade and twisting it into a pretzel, but the idea of the Howells screaming bloody murder made him think again.

"Your name, sir, or I will thrash you within an inch of your life!"

Thurston held the sword just above his head. For once Duke thought discretion the better part of valor and finally relented, "You want my name daddio, fine…it's Earl, you dig…I'm an Earl!"

Mrs. Howell nearly fainted at the words and Thurston turned quickly to support her. Seeing an opening Duke quickly bolted past and made for the lagoon.

"Did you hear him dear? First a Duke, now an Earl, has this man no scruples?" she cried.

"Chin up old girl," said Howell, staring menacingly down the path as Duke disappeared. "I'll see that man hangs from the Tower of London!"

When the Skipper left the boy's hut with a tall bamboo cup of Papaya Protein Potion and saw the Professor and Gilligan alone at the edge of the clearing he was concerned. When he heard their stories of how they misplaced the girls he was downright dumbfounded.

After all he'd been forced to spend the day humbling himself before some half-wit Hercules and despite a nap of indeterminate time everything was still on schedule. Meanwhile his fellow bachelor castaways had two beautiful women apparently throwing themselves at them yet they couldn't manage to keep to the plan.

"I can't believe you two," spat Skipper while fixing the pair with a look he usually reserved for Gilligan's worst bumbling. "Professor, you're the smartest guy I know yet you can't figure out what the numbers 36-22-36 add up to…"

"94," answered the Ph.D. wondering what that had to do with their predicament.

"…and Gilligan I guess our birds and bees talk of the other day didn't quite sink in. When we got back home I was going to give you $50 and tell you to spend it at the local cathouse, but you'd probably come back an hour later with two Tabbies and a Siamese."

"I thought you were allergic to cats Skipper," said the earnestly confused Little Buddy.

Skipper moaned in disbelief. "Don't you get it? Ginger and Mary Ann were, shall I say, 'good to go'…'hot to trot'…"

The Professor and Gilligan looked at each other then back at Skipper without the faintest trace of recognition on their faces.

Still attempting to be discreet the Skipper made another try. "They were 'making a play for you'…'putting the moves on'…'pitching woo'…"

"Isn't that the Chinese baseball star?" questioned Gilligan in all innocence.

His patience finally broken the Skipper exploded, "They wanted to have sex with you!"

The Professor and Gilligan's jaws dropped open and simultaneously they blurted, "THEY DID!"

"Yes," exclaimed Skipper, "and now they're out there all hot and bothered and if they should bump up against Duke who knows what sparks might fly."

"Then we need to split up and find the girls immediately," said the Professor worried more about wasting the reverse tsunami he had charted so carefully than any physical pleasures that might await him.

"Absolutely," echoed Skipper. "You two do that and I'll check up on Duke."

"Aye, aye, Skipper," announced Gilligan and anxious to avoid being blamed for messing up another rescue he saluted, turned, took two running steps and plowed into a palm tree before falling back into the Professor's arms.

Skipper shook his head, grabbed Gilligan by the shirt and shoved him on his way before addressing the Prof. "You know, sometimes I think I'm glad Gilligan doesn't know about the birds and bees."

Part 4 and hopefully a conclusion to follow…


	4. Chapter 4

The girls slipped off the path and surreptitiously snuck up to their secret sunbathing spot, a secluded promontory on the far side of the lagoon. Their plan for the rest of the afternoon was simple- relax, tan, gossip and hopefully throw a bit of a scare into the bashful beaus they left behind.

With this last idea in mind Ginger peered through a tiny opening in the surrounding jungle back toward the communal area around the huts. There was no sign of stirring from either the Professor or Gilligan, but in the foreground, closer to the beach, she noticed a seemingly familiar object rising and falling just above the tree line.

"Mary Ann come look at this," beckoned the leggy redhead.

Mary Ann finished laying out her towel and came over to see what had caught her hut-mate's attention.

"What are you looking at?" questioned the pig-tailed pixie as she strained to see through the narrow break in the brush.

"There in the clearing between the huts and the lagoon. What keeps moving just above the bush?"

Mary Ann craned her head closer, squinted and all at once it came to her, "That's Gilligan's homemade barbell."

"You're right," concurred Ginger leaning back in to get a better view.

"But why would Gilligan be working out?" questioned the Kansas Kewpie in a testament to how much her half-pint honey was still on her mind. "I thought he gave up on trying to look like Duke."

Her licentious libido already astir Ginger quickly corrected her bewildered bunky. "Gilligan could barely budge that barbell. No, that's Duke working out."

The starlet's mouth fell open a bit and her breathing grew quicker as she watched the bamboo and boulder weight go up and down…up and down…up…and…down…

"Of course," cried Mary Ann, her eyes growing wide as saucers. "And look that bar has three boulders tied to each end, not one."

"Ummm," sighed Ginger straining to catch a glimpse of the surfing strongman. "Maybe we should head over and see what he's up to."

Mary Ann was flabbergasted. "Ginger, how could you consider that after what he pulled on us yesterday."

"What, you mean the same thing we tried to pull on the Professor and Gilligan this morning?"

"Please Ginger, we weren't as bad as that. Besides you might ruin the rescue plan."

Ginger had heard enough. She turned toward Mary Ann hands on hips. Her frustration rising, she wanted what she wanted and she wanted it now.

"Exactly, rescue…PLAN!" started the angry actress. "All we ever have is plans, but no rescue. The raft, the transmitter, Gilligan's duck, the Professor's nails, the balloon, the Japanese submarine…they all looked good on paper, but in the end we're still stuck here. For all I know I might die on this godforsaken island and if I do I want it to be with a smile on my face. The kind that the memory of spending a night with a real man like Duke could put there."

"Ginger! You wouldn't!"

"Just watch me," Ginger sniffed indignantly. "Are you coming?"

"Absolutely not," answered Mary Ann standing her ground.

Ginger hesitated for a moment. Her nether regions were pushing her toward Duke, but her brain was telling her not to leave herself exposed to taking all the blame if the rescue plan really was sunk. As a compromise she decided to try a little reverse psychology to coax Mary Ann along.

"That's fine," said Ginger as she slowly made her exit. "Duke always wanted me more anyway."

"Wanted you?" exclaimed the black bathing-suited beauty indignantly.

"That's right. After all he did seek me out first. You were just an afterthought."

The farm girl's blood was boiling now. "That's because wolves always attack the _easier_ prey first," she explained making sure to stretch out the "e-word" to make it as insulting as possible.

"Sure, if that makes you feel better," Ginger tossed over her shoulder as she disappeared into the bush.

Mary Ann was beside herself. First the rejection by Gilligan and now this fight with Ginger had stirred up a cauldron of emotions inside her and none of them were good. She looked off again through the break in the trees. There was no evidence of Gilligan out looking for her in and around the huts, but there was that barbell still pulsating above the clearing. First in view, then out of view…in view…out of view…in…out…in…"Oh to heck with it," cried Mary Ann to no one, but her towel. "If that's the way she's gonna be then we'll just find out who Duke really wants!"

And with that she bounded after Ginger without a thought to the possible consequences.

Gilligan walked through the jungle his head throbbing. One would think it the result of slamming into that palm tree in his haste to begin searching for the girls, but that was not the case. This time Gilligan's head didn't hurt outside but inside and the source of that pain was Mary Ann.

Gently rubbing his temples Gilligan pondered all that transpired in the last several days. On Wednesday he and Mary Ann were simple friends and all was right in the world. Then Thursday morning Duke arrived and suddenly Mary Ann ignored him like Brussels sprouts at a barbecue. By Friday afternoon Duke had scared the girls off and that evening the pair was play-acting romantic scenes in the clearing. And now Skipper tells him that Mary Ann is ready to drop the act and get on with the real thing…well, that was just too much for his already confused cranium to process. Mr. Howell had once declared Gilligan was "not the brightest bulb in the chandelier", but even the Professor's brain, he thought, would have trouble sorting out the myriad machinations of these three tumultuous days.

In the end it was Duke who had set off this chain reaction and whether he stayed or left Gilligan saw no good way out of the mess. Or in other words there was no chance of going back to that blissfully, non-descript Wednesday.

If Duke stayed it would be because the girls had forgiven him and Gilligan knew there was no way he could compete against that. Two days of exercising had nearly killed him, anymore and the only thing he'd accomplish was to be the healthiest corpse in the cemetery.

Conversely if Duke left they could all be rescued within a week. Gilligan was still in the midst of trying to work out the significance of birds, bees, cathouses and who knows what other member of the Animal Kingdom Skipper might throw at him so he wasn't even sure how to pursue Mary Ann if he wanted to. Not to mention he had often witnessed among family and schoolmates that relationships were where friendships went to die. He couldn't bear for things to get "weird" between him and Mary Ann. Yet at the same time if he didn't give her more she'd be off to Horner's Corners and in the arms of Horace Higginbotham or some other cornpone Casanova in no time.

If only, he considered, there was something in between friends and lovers. He began muttering to himself, "…friends plus…no…friends and more…nah…friends with advantages…friends with bene-…aw, forget it. Just another one of my dumb ideas that'll never happen."

No this appeared to be a conundrum that could only be broken by a really big, really irrational, really meaningless display. And Gilligan was just the guy to do it.

Back on the far side of the lagoon the athletic Ms. Summers easily caught up to the Hollywood Hottie just as she was reaching the path that led back to the clearing. After meeting Duke the girls made a pact that they wouldn't compete over him, but upon seeing the Herculean heartthrob strut around the beach and flex his rippling muscles they subtly began matching each other flirt for flirt and flatter for flatter unwilling to give the other a shapely leg up in the quest for his attention. Now, however, all pretense had been dropped and the battle was on in full.

"I see you've decided to try your luck against me," said Ginger cockily as Mary Ann came up alongside her.

"I don't need luck to win Duke's heart," Mary Ann snippily shot back. "When it comes to impressing a man, you'll see, I'm every bit as good as you."

""Believe me Mary Ann if you're looking to get Duke's attention being 'good' has nothing to do with it."

Ginger smiled smugly and gave off an air of supreme confidence. Mary Ann was cute, no doubt, but now she was in the big leagues where her perkiness and aw shucks demeanor could take her only so far. Ginger, meanwhile, knew she was the total man-eating package- killer looks, classiness and so much sex appeal it appeared to ooze from every pore.

The pair icily made their way down the path until they could see the barbell again over the tree line and even hear the guttural exertions of Duke as he pushed his bronzed body to its limit. Ginger felt goose bumps rise on her arms and then the feel of two hands on top of that as Mary Ann grabbed her from behind and spun her around.

"Ginger are you sure we're doing the right thing?" the confused country girl questioned. "What about the others? They've gotten their hopes up that we'll be saved."

Ginger was afraid of this. Unlike the sultry sexpot Mary Ann's compassion was more powerful than her cravings. Faced with the good girl in Mary Ann Ginger tried to be more diplomatic.

"And what about Duke? If this ends like the Professor's other rescue plans he could wind up lost at sea or washed up on an island of headhunters."

Mary Ann had to admit that made sense. She mulled the possibilities over in her head, but Ginger was tired of playing this game.

"Listen Mary Ann, you do what you want," she intoned. "Duke was never going to choose you over me anyway. I mean it's not like the question Ginger or Mary Ann is one that's gonna plague mankind for generations."

"That's what you think," exclaimed the farm girl, Ginger's final blow being timed perfectly to raise Mary Ann's hackles once again. "Fine, let's do this," she said as she pulled the ribbons from her hair and shook out the signature pigtails, "and we'll see who comes out on top!"

"On top, on the bottom, whatever way Dukes likes it," the victorious vixen joked. And with that the pair made their way to clearing much to the surprise of a delighted Earl "Duke" Williams.

"I'm sorry Professor. I shouldn't have come down so hard on you," apologized the Skipper.

The pair had stayed behind after Gilligan took off in search of the girls to discuss their predicament. When the Skipper heard the effort the Professor had put forth preparing for the reverse tsunami he suddenly felt bad for scolding him over losing Ginger.

"Don't give it a second thought, Skipper," the Professor replied. "We're all on edge about this rescue. No one's to blame."

"Well there's always someone to blame and this time it's not just Gilligan, but Ginger too," grumbled Captain Grumby. "If it weren't for her raging hormones and his complete lack of the same we wouldn't be having this discussion. If only there was a way we could've swapped their brains for a couple of hours everything would fine."

"Believe me Skipper there's not a scientist in the world mad enough to experiment with that," claimed the Professor. "And even if there is I'm sure we'll never meet him. Now I'm going to check the girls' hut for clues as to where they might've gone. You better get down to the beach and look in on Duke."

As Skipper made his way toward the lagoon he noted with concern that the sun had moved significantly in the sky indicating he'd been napping much longer than he thought. But it wasn't until he pushed aside the last palm frond and entered the clearing that he knew definitively the rescue was dead. The steak dinners, the draft beers, the triple cheese pizzas all went up in smoke as he was confronted by Duke doing another round of knee bends only this time perched on his shoulders kicking their feet and grinning like schoolgirls were Ginger and Mary Ann in their swimsuits and high heels.

Upon noticing Skipper standing there Duke shrugged the girls off his broad shoulders then caught them against his side inches from the ground before gently placing them down. "That was amazing Duke," cooed Ginger. "Oh yeah, Duke, just super," Mary Ann quickly added. And as they did it was unclear what crashed at the Skipper's feet first, his jaw or his hope of ever being rescued.

"Check it out, Pops," said Duke beaming with pride as the girls gazed rapturously up at him. "My lovebirds have come home to roost!"

Dumbfounded, the Skipper stood silent the bamboo cup still held absentmindedly in his hand. In truth Duke was almost as shocked as Skipper that the girls had returned, but his ego would never let him admit it. Instead he reached for the protein drink, downed it in one long draught and, pumped up on endorphins and adrenaline, crushed the bamboo tumbler in his bare hand.

"Oooo!" breathed the beauties as one.

Instinctively Ginger reached across and stroked Duke's sculpted chest which he dutifully expanded and tightened under her touch. Not to be outdone Mary grabbed Duke's upper arm her hands looking tiny and child-like as they vainly tried to encircle his enormous bulging bicep.

"Mmmm," purred Ginger turning the catfight up a notch. "I can't imagine why I ever left you Duke."

"Oh, me too Duke," countered Mary Ann, one eye on the bleach blonde Romeo the other glaring at Ginger. "But I'll never leave your side now."

"Don't worry 'bout it girls. Just a case of temporary insanity," crowed the satisfied surfer. "But now that the famine's over let's hit the beach and you can feast your eyes on a muscleman!"

"Oooohhh!" the girls gushed simultaneously. They proceeded to curl themselves up against Duke until they seemed to become one with him. Then the trio stepped over the shards of broken bamboo, brushed past Skipper and made their way to the lagoon.

Finally regaining his power of speech the Skipper shook his head and muttered disconsolately, "Oh brother. Why does the light at the end of our tunnel always wind up being a train?"

Hopefully this sets our Island-ers up for a conclusion next time…Thanks for reading…


	5. Chapter 5

It's been said that the best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry, but where the castaways are concerned that would be a gross understatement. Still when you're trapped on a sand dune in the middle of nowhere plans are all you have. So in light of the latest news regarding Duke, schemes were being hatched from every corner often at cross purposes.

Meanwhile in the battle for Duke's attention the girls were down at the lagoon going at it hammer and tongs; or had this been a more enlightened era in swimwear fashion one might say "hammer and thongs". They'd only been battling for a short while, but already it was shaping up as a Tortoise vs. Hare scenario and not just because of the favorable comparison between Ginger's sexual proclivities and that of the latter.

Problem was the gregarious Ms. Grant had raised flirting to an art form and there was just no way a simple country girl like Mary Ann could keep up. Not to mention that Ginger was just too darn worldly. When Duke talked of posing for a sculpture, Ginger mentioned posing for a painting. When Duke told of winning a bodybuilding competition, Ginger countered with winning a Beauty Pageant. And when Duke struck a pose and told the girls to check out his trapezius Ginger knew just what muscle he meant and how to compliment it while Mary Ann was still conjuring up images of the high-flying Big Top act she'd see every year at the County Fair.

So after only a half-hour at the lagoon Duke had already imperceptibly inched over to Ginger's side of the beach and slightly angled toward her. And now it seemed the leopard-printed lovely was careening in for the kill.

"You know I once modeled for an advertisement on the hood of a car like this," cooed Ginger as she contorted her body into a pose so rich in cheesecake it should've come with its own angioplasty.

As the quintessential red-blooded American male Duke couldn't help but be impressed. He leaned sideways and down to get a better look before commenting, "Nice gluteus maximus…"

And while Mary Ann didn't know where that was any more than Duke's trapezius or her lattisimus dorsi she was sure Ginger had it in more shapely abundance than she did.

"You know once I appeared in an ad standing on a surfboard like this…" informed Duke as he balled his fists and brought them up towards his temples.

All at once two grapefruit-sized protrusions formed on Duke's upper arms. Then he tightened his grip, locked in the pose and the grapefruits turned into glistening, golden mountains of muscle before the girl's eyes.

"Oooo, what muscles," Ginger breathed in a voice so husky it should've been pulling a sled.

"What a physique," Mary Ann cried out with emphasis as he tried to become more than the afterthought Ginger seemed to be making her.

Duke pursed his lips and smiled satisfactorily first at one bulging, bronzed bicep then the other and finally at Ginger who squirmed in the sand either in ecstasy or to get out of the wet spot spreading beneath her or more likely both.

Mary Ann just wanted to give up at this point, but knew she couldn't. By coming back to him they insured Duke was here to stay so to let Ginger win would relegate her to a life of playing Go Fish and Old Maid with Gilligan and hoping he could someday muster up the courage to hold her hand while Duke and Ginger romped about in pursuit of more adult pleasures.

"Oh, tell me how big those muscles are again Duke," said the overtly, over-acting actress while using the singular as if Mary Ann were no longer part of the equation.

Duke pumped his arms and proudly announced, "Nineteen and a quarter inches in circumference."

"Umm…that's about as big around as my entire waist…"

Ginger arched her back, threw out her chest and Duke ate it up with a spoon thought Mary Ann. And that's when the idea hit her.

"Duke," she called out forcefully enough to break up the mutual admiration society going on across the way. "Hanging out with Skipper I'll bet you haven't had a good meal all day."

"Uh…you know, you're right," said Duke finally turning toward Mary Ann who beamed sweetly; the coquettishly clear converse to Ginger's soiled sex kitten.

"We'd be happy to fix you a snack," said the home-making honey her smile turning sarcastic as she quickly returned the domestically-challenged diva's glare. "Right, Ginger?"

"Sure," replied Ginger, anything but.

"Great," answered Duke. "I'm gonna bring some of my barbells over from the clearing and I'll meet you ladies back here."

No sooner had Duke exited with a peck on the cheek from each of the battling beauties than Ginger turned on Mary Ann. "What do you call that?" moaned the movie star.

"They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach," shrugged Ms. Summers as she set out for the supply hut.

Ginger followed, angry but not overly concerned. "Well you can try it that way, but I know a shortcut to a man's heart and it runs, shall we say, a little south of his stomach."

The Skipper sat across from the Professor at the communal table, a man without hope. The rescue was dashed and with the girls gone back over to Duke's side they didn't even have a weapon to use against him. As the Professor leafed through a large sheaf of papers the Skipper suddenly pounded the table with a fist.

"I should've socked that pretty boy in the mouth the moment he got wise with the girls," Skipper announced. "We wouldn't have had any trouble with him after that."

"Don't be silly Skipper. You would have only made the girls feel sorry for him," analyzed the Professor. "Beside Duke is bigger than you and 20 years younger."

"You think I'm afraid of his muscles? Listen those may be nice for impressing the girls, but real strength comes from hard work. The kind you do on the deck of a ship," announced Captain Grumby at which point he presented his beefy forearms to illustrate the point.

"Well Gilligan worked on the deck of a ship, but I don't think you want him fighting Duke," put in the Prof in an attempt to quell Skipper's rising anger.

"Believe me Professor Gilligan caused more work on the deck of the Minnow than he ever did."

Hoping to dissuade Skipper from doing something rash Dr. Hinckley decided to turn attention to matters presently in their control. From this point they had a little less than 24 hours to change Duke's mind. Right now they needed to make sure more practical issues were taken care of.

"So how are we fixed on provisions?" the Professor asked.

"We've got enough fruit to sink that surfboard," replied Skipper as he slowly pounded a fist into his hand.

The Professor made a checkmark in his papers. "And fresh water?"

"I took care of that this morning."

"Whose jugs were better?"

"Well I measured them both and you were right Ginger's jugs were bigger, but Mary Ann's were easier to manipulate so I chose hers. I mean we don't want anything that's flopping around and in the way. Like we agreed anything more than a handful is too much."

With that Skipper reached under the table and brought up a pair of Mary Ann's island-made clay jugs fastened to a rope that Duke could tie around his waist.

"Nice job Skipper," commented the Professor as he cupped Mary Ann's jugs gently. "Water. Check. Clean and wax surfboard. Check. Is there anything I'm missing Skipper?"

"Should we try to make up some kind of waterproof package with a message and our location inside in case anything happens to Duke?"

The Professor pondered this for a moment. "Don't waste your time Skipper. Either Duke makes it or he doesn't. There is no in-between on this one."

So with only the inevitable problem remaining Skipper got up from the table and started to pace furiously, his jaw tensed, the blood rising to his face. The Professor couldn't help but feel bad for the man who had been such a rock through their ordeal. He had one more piece of information in his papers that he'd been holding back in case Duke chose not to ride the reverse tsunami. Now, against his better judgment, he decided to share it.

"Skipper as a ship's captain I'm sure you know what happens to tides in the days before a typhoon or hurricane," the Professor began.

"Sure, they get rougher. There are bigger swells."

"Exactly and rough seas and bigger swells cause…"

"…huge waves," said the Skipper finishing the sentence and brightening for the first time.

He stopped pacing, sat back down and waited anxiously to hear more.

The Professor pulled a paper from deep in his work. "According to my preliminary calculations Typhoon season in this region begins in six to eight weeks. If we can get Duke out in front of a storm system and on a sufficiently big wave I'm thinking he might be able to ride it to the shipping lanes where he could be picked up and we'd be rescued."

"That's genius Professor. In that time we can make life on the island so rough for Duke he'll be begging to get back on that board. Why didn't you mention this sooner?"

"Because it's a serious longshot. The reverse tsunami has a much better chance of getting Duke to Hawaii or at least to a point where someone will find him. So you can't breathe a word of this to anyone. We have to act like our only hope is Duke riding that tsunami tomorrow, you understand."

The Skipper tried to hide his happiness, but already a tentative plan was spinning around in his head. "Absolutely Professor…the secret's safe with me."

When Duke returned to the beach carrying and dragging a veritable gymnasium of equipment he was shocked to see not Ginger and Mary Ann, but Mrs. Howell waiting for him in her sparkly, gold pantsuit.

"Man, my animal magnetism is so strong I'm pullin' in chicks I'm not even interested in," he mumbled to himself as he set the barbells down.

While Duke unencumbered himself Mrs. Howell gave him a once over and had to admit she couldn't fault the girls taste from a purely physical standpoint. Duke was no Montmerancy Vandergrift, but he would make for a nice distraction as say a cabana boy poolside at the Beverly Hills Country Club.

In fact since Thurston had first brought up her old beau Mrs. Howell had been giving him more thought and comparing him to the man the girls were currently so infatuated with. And the more she thought the more she came to the conclusion that just like young Master Vandergrift Duke was not a one, or for that matter even a two, three or four, woman man. Though she wouldn't admit it to her husband Lovey hadn't broken it off with Montmerancy because Thurston was more handsome or dashing; she'd done it because Montmerancy seemed genetically incapable of commitment. Unlike the other suitors in her society set who were interested in a girl's social standing, connections and trust fund balance Montmerancy Vandergrift wasn't so much concerned with "Who's Who" as he was with "Who's Next." So armed with this comparison Lovey sat the strapping surfer down on a log with the idea of gauging just how far he was willing to go in this game of Rescue Roulette.

"The reason I wanted to speak with you Duke…er…Earl…uh…Mr. Williams," started Mrs. H unable to attach those regal appellations to the low-brow libertine seated next to her, "is that being something of the matriarch on this island I feel it within my bounds to inquire as to your intentions with our Ms. Grant and Ms. Summers."

Now befitting a man of his mental midget-ry Duke's intentions were quite simple- bask in the girls' adoration, coax them into a few tumbles in the jungle and then move on to his next conquest. It was his standard M.O. However, he wasn't ready to impart this to anyone as he had decided to slow-play the situation after fumbling his first foray toward fornication so famously.

"Lady, I'm just looking to have a little fun in the sun, if you get my drift."

"Yes, well, I understand you young people today take a much more liberal view of courtship, but it's never too early to look ahead in these matters. Of course first you'll have to choose between the girls, then there's the relationship, potentially engagement and finally marriage. Oh, that would be wonderful. I love weddings. And I believe the Skipper could perform the ceremony if it takes place on water, but I'd have to check on that."

Relationship? Engagement? Marriage? Duke had already heard enough. "Listen Mrs. Moneybags no offense, but the Duke ain't exactly marrying timber, you dig?"

Mrs. Howell pressed on as she noted the agitation in Duke's voice. "Yes, but I heard you weren't riding the tsunami tomorrow which means you're stuck here with us. I mean a little…ahem…'fun in the sun', as you say, is fine, but eventually a girl wants to know where she stands."

Duke's brow furrowed and for the first time he considered the negative consequences of skipping the tsunami. From the start he had always assumed when the time was right he'd catch the first large wave headed toward Honolulu and be back in civilization in no time. But now it was dawning on him that it might not be that easy. He'd ridden thousands of waves from Malibu to Maui in his time, but the tsunami was a good 15 to 20 times bigger and more powerful than anything he'd ever encountered. Without it he really might be stranded and that was completely unacceptable.

As Mrs. Howell had correctly deduced Duke was a firm believer in the old saying, "somewhere someone is tired of that." And in his case that someone was always him, that somewhere was the place he just left and that 'that' was another forlorn fraulein crying into her beach blanket.

"Lady, you've given me some thinking to do," Duke declared as he rose from the log and paced across the clearing.

"Yes, well, I'll leave you to that," said Lovey suppressing a smile as she made her exit. "But do remember Wedding Season is just a few months away and I would so like to get this island functioning on a proper social calendar."

So it was that the girls were working to keep Duke there, Mrs. Howell to get him to leave and Skipper/Professor harboring a backup plan in case the next day's tsunami fell through. Oddly amongst all this scheming Gilligan hadn't been heard from, but even at that moment Mr. Howell was trying to track down the missing mate to employ in his own shadowy stratagem…as if there weren't already enough intrigues to go around.

Thanks for reading…


	6. Chapter 6

**At last posting the girls were battling over Duke, Gilligan had disappeared, the Howells were scheming and the Professor and Skipper were laying low trying to figure out a way to get Duke on the board preferably for the next day's reverse tsunami or failing that in a month or so for the big waves brought by typhoon season…We're about 20 hours out from the delayed tsunami and everyone's jockeying for a position that'll get them what they want…**

Satisfied she couldn't be any more beautiful Ginger set down the hand mirror, slid off her stool and confronted Mary Ann just outside the supply hut. In the 20 minutes Ginger had been primping, posing and admiring herself in the looking glass the Happy Homemaker had managed to prepare a veritable feast of fruits and vegetables to bring to Duke at the lagoon.

"So Donna Reed," threw out the thespian, hands on hip, surveying the food-filled table, "what do you expect to get from all this?"

"Get from all this?" repeated Mary Ann confused. "Nothing. I'm just trying to satisfy Duke's appetite."

Ginger laughed derisively, "That's only going to satisfy one of Duke's appetites…if you know what I mean."

"Unfortunately I always know what you mean," replied Ms. Summers, a distasteful look briefly crossing her face.

"I'm just saying remember what happened yesterday Mary Ann. The more we flatter and fawn over Duke the more he's going to expect from us. I'm just wondering if you're ready to see that through."

The half embarrassed, half disgusted look tried to make its way back to Mary Ann's mien and she attempted to suppress it by ignoring the subject. "I don't want to talk about this right now Ginger."

But the manipulative movie star was not about to let her off that easily. It was time this naïve nature girl learned the less pretty facts of life thought Ginger and she was just the type of woman to enlighten her.

"Listen honey," she started condescendingly. "When you look as good as we do you have to expect things like this. Sure you're trying to direct your beauty at the sweet, handsome, gentlemanly type, but it's not a radar-guided missile. Sometimes it attracts the guy with one tooth pushing a shopping cart or a wolf in muscleman's clothing. I mean there's bound to be collateral damage, you just have to be prepared to deal with it."

"And if something does happen I assume you now have a plan to deal with it," questioned Mary Ann.

"If I have my way something will happen and I definitely have a plan," Ginger stated matter-of-factly. "Actually it's so simple I can't believe I hadn't thought of it before. It all comes down to economics…a simple exchange of goods and services."

Mary Ann stopped her slicing and dicing and turned to the intrepid ingénue with interest. "What exactly does that mean?"

"Well, I've got the goods," said Ginger running a hand down her curves and striking her patented swimsuit model pose, "and Duke wants to be 'serviced', shall we say. That means all we need to work out is a suitable payment plan."

Mary Ann turned red as one of Gilligan's shirts. Her mouth opened, but the power of speech had abandoned her so Ginger forged on.

"I mean it's really not a difficult negotiation. If Duke will simply agree to be on that reverse tsunami tomorrow he can be on me tonight…deal done."

"Wait a second. A few hours ago you were worried Duke might be killed on the reverse tsunami."

"Oh, that's when I was still mad at the Professor for snubbing me. I'm over that and now I think I've devised the ultimate scheme…Duke gets his 'board waxed', I get my cobwebs cleaned and everyone gets rescued. What more could you ask?"

Mary Ann did have to admit it looked perfect, actually a little too perfect to her way of thinking. But before she had time to analyze this latest twist Ginger had grabbed a huge bowl of salad as if it were her own creation and set off for the lagoon.

Instinctively Mary Ann snatched up the fruit platter she had just finished then hesitated for a second as thoughts swirled in her head. She thought about Duke, about Ginger, about their rescue and surprisingly about Gilligan. Sweet, simple Gilligan who'd earlier that day said he'd fight a gang of bikers for her. If only he'd try something like that now her heart would melt on the spot. Ginger could have the stunning surfer and his magnificent muscles. She'd take her G-Man…no ego, no games, no jealousies just unconditional love like it was supposed to be.

Unfortunately Gilligan hadn't been seen since their awkward parting that morning and even if he did show up she wasn't sure what his feelings would be. As for Duke, Mary Ann had gone into this whole reconciliation with the hope he had learned from the previous day's rebuffs and that there was a heart of gold hiding beneath those pumped up pecs. Even if there wasn't she was thinking that she wasn't about to get left behind by love again. If being the good girl who always strikes out was what it took to win everyone's popularity contest, well then, they could just keep their trophy. From now on she was looking out for number one.

…yet even as she thought this and started toward the lagoon she sighed, "Oh Gilligan where are you when I need you…" If only she knew how close he really was.

Close enough in fact to be voyeuristically watching as Duke sat on a boulder like a sultan with the girls a hovering harem taking care of his every need.

After hearing the news from the Professor Gilligan had rushed down to the beach unwilling to believe it was true. Now that he'd confirmed the worst he climbed on to a tree stump to get a better look. From there he could see Mary Ann hand feeding fruit to Duke as Ginger stood behind him sensually massaging his shoulders in a manner that made Gilligan uncomfortable, but not in a completely bad way.

With each titter and sigh from the girls Gilligan's blood got hotter. He pounded a fist into his palm and contorted his face into a cartoonish scowl. His walk in the woods hadn't turned up the girls before Duke got to them, but it had accomplished one thing. It had confirmed in Gilligan's mind that he missed Mary Ann and wanted to be with her whatever it took…as friends, as lovers, as husband and wife someday. He never saw himself in some of these roles before, but now he was determined to figure them out if that's what was needed to keep them together.

He watched a few seconds longer, pounding his fist harder and screwing up his scowl more. Then, his anger rising, he jumped off the stump, turned upon landing and nearly took a swing at a stunned Mr. Howell.

"Good God!" cried the astonished aristocrat. "What are you thinking old man?"

"Oh, sorry Mr. Howell," said Gilligan, stepping back and unclenching his fist. "I was just psyching myself up to go down to the beach and have it out with Duke. I didn't know you were right behind me."

"Well then it's a good thing I showed up before you did something foolish. Why you'd be crushed by that boorish behemoth."

"Maybe," countered the newly aggressive G-Man. "But I've been thinking a lot about Mary Ann and me and, you know, our relationship. And I feel that love has made me strong!"

"Unfortunately, old bean, strength has made him stronger," shot back Thurston as they both looked through the trees to where the girls were now rubbing coconut oil over Duke's rippling physique.

Deflated Gilligan turned to Mr. Howell, desperation in his eyes, and asked, "Well what do I do then?"

Of course the Machiavellian millionaire already had a trick up his sleeve. He endorsed his wife's plan to scare Duke onto the surfboard with talk of commitment and marriage, but with a cranial challenged Cro-Magnon like this Thurston felt they needed more than talk. They needed something tangible to frighten him.

To that end the Wizard of Wall Street reached into his pocket, pulled out a velvet drawstring bag, opened it and handed Gilligan two small items. "Yesterday's plan that tricked Sir Loin of Beef over there was el-e-men-tary," smiled Howell. "But this one is more along the lines of sneaky and complicated so listen closely, my boy…"

Elementary Gilligan could do with some effort. Sneaky and complicated was less his speed. He paced back and forth trying to memorize Mr. Howell's directions for several minutes so that when he finally looked back toward the lagoon the girls had left with the dirty plates, napkins and utensils. Duke was now alone and that was Gilligan's cue to set the plan in motion.

Keyed up on adrenaline he was moving too fast when he reached the beach and promptly tripped over a barbell landing face-first in the sand. As he looked around from this position he was stunned to see the amount of exercise equipment Duke had assembled and brought to the lagoon. It reminded him of the only time he had been in a gym. Intimidated by the machines and contraptions he'd moved off to an isolated corner where he struggled for several minutes to get into a particular apparatus only to be asked by an employee to please get out of the painter's scaffold.

Thusly dismayed by the surroundings and shaken from the fall Gilligan tried to clear his head and recall Howell's instructions. Before he could, though, a large hand grabbed his collar and he was lifted off the ground and held aloft like a rag doll. At the other end of this powerful arm Gilligan saw Duke shaking his head.

"Little man you and barbells just don't mix," exclaimed the lubricated lady-killer as he set Gilligan roughly down.

"Uh, yeah, I guess not," mumbled the flustered first mate trying to regain his composure. "But, uh, I'm glad I found you. There's something I need to talk to you about."

"Sure, what is it," grunted Duke as he reached down, grabbed a boulder and bamboo weight and began a series of arm curls.

Fumbling in his pocket for the first of Mr. Howell's props Gilligan exclaimed, "Well it's about Ginger's booty."

Duke stopped in mid curl smiled slyly and said, "Um, one of my favorite topics. In fact I was complimenting her on it just a while ago."

Gilligan finally found what he was looking for and pulled from his pocket a blue and pink baby booty Mrs. Howell had hastily knit for the occasion. Then just as Thurston instructed he thrust it in Duke's face and said, "The Professor wanted you to have this…"

"The Professor?"

"Yeah," Gilligan continued rapidly before he forgot. "He made it for Ginger. She's baby crazy, always talking about some clock that's ticking or something. I never heard it, but I guess she told Professor if he didn't do something about it she would dump him. He made this to show her he was sincere, but know he wants you to have it. He says when he finishes the other one he'll give it to you guys as a shower gift."

Duke shifted the barbell to his left hand and, just as Howell predicted, grabbed the booty with his right in order to get the offending object out of his line of sight. "Baby booties? Shower gifts? Man I thought this place was gonna be fun and games, but you cats are into some heavy stuff."

With everything going to plan Gilligan thrust his hand into his other pocket for the second prop, one of Lovey's rings Gilligan was supposedly planning on giving to the "marriage-crazy" Mary Ann. However, when his hand hit the bottom of the pocket there was nothing. He felt the other side, then in back, but still no ring. That's because unbeknownst to the flustered first mate the ring in question had shot out of his pocket when he fell entering the clearing and was now resting beneath a set of dumbbells safely out of sight.

"Uh…um…I also wanted to give you something else. It's…uh…" Gilligan scanned the sand around his feet, pulled his pockets inside out, but came up empty.

Duke, meanwhile, hardly noticed this futile fumbling. Mr. Howell's plot was working precisely as planned and the wave-riding womanizer was already looking to get out of town. Not yet on the tsunami, but at least to the other side of the island where he could sort out all that was happening.

"Ah…I need to take a little jog," said Duke as he squeezed the booty out of sight in one of his powerful paws. "Here, little man, hold this."

With that Duke handed the barbell to a stunned Gilligan and took off. Immediately the spindly sailor staggered backward a few steps before, miraculously, his legs steadied and he stood supporting the weight at waist level. Perhaps the hours of working out he did were not wasted after all he thought. He tried to curl the bar to his shoulders as Duke was doing, but it was asking too much.

Still he felt good about all that had happened. He hadn't completed Howell's plan, but he had obviously put doubt in Duke's mind. Likewise he couldn't lift the barbell, but he hadn't been trapped beneath it either. It was only baby steps yet he felt in time it would build to something bigger.

Then suddenly Gilligan was snapped out of this musing by an intense burning in his arms and he awkwardly dropped the weight with a boulder landing directly on his right foot. And so for the time being it looked like he'd be taking baby steps not just figuratively but literally as well.


	7. Chapter 7

**The Note**

Mary Ann sat at her dressing table writing feverishly. She stopped for a second, looked over and addressed Ginger. "If you're planning one of your sweet, syrupy desserts for tonight don't bother. Duke's on a strict high protein diet. I've pulled out all my best fish recipes and planned out the entire menu."

Ginger, sitting at her own dressing table, couldn't have cared less. She was busy writing as well, but the only dish on that menu was going to be her.

"I'm not concerned about dinner Mary Ann. In fact if you want Duke's stomach you can have it. I'm concerned with certain other of his body parts."

"You're not really going through with that plan you devised this afternoon…are you?" asked Mary Ann

"Of course I am. Why if it wasn't for deals like this a young actress would never get a job in Hollywood."

The bashful brunette blanched. She'd often got the feeling Ginger had slept her way to the middle of the movie industry, but she'd never heard her admit it so plainly.

"…oh and by the way," added the gorgeous Ms. Grant, "you may want to make yourself scarce tonight since I'll need the hut."

"Eeew, Ginger, do you have to that here?"

"Well I would suggest the boys hut, but while a 'swing in the hammock' makes for a good euphemism it isn't really functional. As for the beach, that might seem romantic, but you know how sand tends to get into every nook and cranny…"

"You can stop right there," cried Ms. Summers. "I don't need to hear about your nooks or your crannies!"

Ginger smiled at the pained Pollyanna. "Sorry, honey, but this is the only free hut with a bed. Of course you could always join the party, but you need to tell me now. I mean three's a crowd unless you choreograph it right."

The blood rose to Mary Ann's face like mercury in a red-hot thermometer. Ginger simply chuckled at her discomfort and put the finishing touches on her note to Duke. Sealing it with a bright lipstick kiss and then spraying it liberally with her signature scent.

As she wiggled her way to the door Mary Ann recovered enough to ask, "How will I know if you're here or not?"

"Well you could always go by the old standard 'If this hut's a-rockin' don't come a-knockin''. But in case we're taking a little breather I'll do what my roommate and I used to do in college- hang a man's tie over the door handle. I don't think I have a tie, but I'll put a scarf or something out to warn you honey."

Embarrassed Mary Ann just wanted it to be all over. If Ginger's plan did work she resolved to head right back to Horner's Corner as soon as they were rescued. A place where this type of thing was repressed like it should be she thought.

"Oh Ginger I don't know whether to be angry or to thank you for this?"

"Like I always say Mary Ann, 'Don't hate me because I'm beautiful'," said the curvaceous crooner. "But by the same token there's no need to thank me. I mean it's not like I'm seducing the Skipper here."

Ginger laughed a little too hard for Mary Ann's liking and slipped out the door note in hand. Meanwhile Mary Ann tore up her menu and put away her recipes. It appeared the only fish on Duke's plate tonight would be Red(headed) Snapper.

No sooner had Ginger dropped off her note and started for the designated rendezvous than more intrigues began surrounding it than the Zimmerman Telegram.

Duke was the first to come across the missive propped up against a candle on the table in the boy's hut. What he proceeded to read would have been all he could have hoped for the day before, but now he was skeptical.

He'd just returned from a long jog meant to clear his head, but it had only left him with more questions. Were Mrs. Howell and Gilligan scheming to get him on the reverse tsunami? What of the supposed relationships between Ginger/Professor and Mary Ann/Gilligan? Why did they seemingly rekindle then fizzle out so quickly? Was that also some kind of ruse? And why did Ginger reject him yesterday and beckon for him now?

Duke chalked some of this up to his self-professed irresistible desirability, but others matters were more troubling. Specifically he was thinking of Ginger's biological time bomb as the playboy in him referred to such matters.

Babies were the exact kind of entanglement a womanizer like Duke avoided. But was Gilligan being truthful? He couldn't be sure he was getting a straight answer from Ginger and to figure it out would take more than the 18 or so hours he had till his only chance to get off this crazy island, the reverse tsunami, passed by.

Of course that still left Mary Ann, but while Duke wasn't adverse to a frivolous fling with the farm girl he had already pegged her as a good girl; the type that needed a week of love notes and hand holding just to give up first base. Duke Williams, however, was no Punch-and-Judy singles hitter. He swung for the fences with every pitch and usually connected. So there was no sense in trying to "manufacture a score" as they say in baseball parlance when the next day's giant wave would carry him home a hero to wagonloads of worshipful, willing wahines.

That decided it. Duke was determined to forget these kooky castaways, hop the tsunami and be in Hawaii fighting off chicks like Colonel Sanders in a henhouse in less than a week.

Next up was Skipper. He and the Professor hadn't come up with a plan to change Duke's mind and despairing of ever doing so he had returned to the boy's hut to grab some more things for what was looking like an extended stay in the Hinckley Home.

The second Skipper entered his old hut his libido came alight from a smell that always caused lusting in his loins…Ginger's perfume. Instantly he came across the source crumpled in a ball on the table. From out back he could hear what he assumed was Duke in the men's shared shower so he quickly opened the note and began reading.

Later in sadly recounting the contents to the Professor the only word he was sure of was "proposition". After all he'd spent a year on the island hinting to Ginger that he'd be more than happy to "prop" himself up in any "position" she desired to no avail. Then Mr. America surfs up and in only two days he's living Skipper's dream.

That aside the Skipper thought this note called for immediate and decisive action. The tsunami rescue was as good as dead he concluded so he made an on-the-spot decision to break his promise and reveal to Duke the alternate rescue plan the Professor shared earlier.

"Hey there Admiral," said Duke surprising the Skipper. The latter then used his considerable bulk to shield surfer boy as he subtly returned the note to the table.

"Duke we need to talk…man-to-man," said the Skipper wheeling around and taking on his most serious tone. He noticed Duke had showered and shaved as if he were heading out on a date. He had also squeezed himself into a pair of Gilligan's jeans and t-shirt out of which he bulged in all the places that would make a young lady take notice.

"Sure, pops. I had something I needed to tell you as well."

Had he been aware of the Howell's scheming Skipper might have yielded the floor. Instead he stood his ground dead set on getting everything out in the open once and for all.

"Now, listen, Duke we're both men of the world here so I'm well aware of what you're after," started Skipper aggressively. "You and the girls are all adults. If the two…ahem…or three of you want to fool around that's none of my business. But you can get us rescued and as Captain of the Minnow I can't let you pass that up."

Skipper paused as the idea of provocative propositions, clandestine kanoodling and…good God…ménage a trois had caused his brow to get wet and his mouth dry. He did, however, have Duke's attention and the rippling Romeo was content to see where this might lead.

"I wasn't supposed to tell you this," continued Skipper, "but there is another rescue option besides the reverse tsunami."

"You don't say," replied Duke, eyebrows raised and starting to think nothing these people told him was what it seemed.

"The Professor says the big waves that precede typhoon season are strong enough to at least carry you to the shipping lanes. From there a ship is bound to spot you and we'll be saved. That comes 6 to 8 weeks from now. I figure that gives you plenty of time to get your rocks off or knock yer socks off or whatever you kids call it these days. So have your fun now because when the typhoon waves come I'm not taking no for an answer…Now what did you wanna tell me?"

Duke reached up and ran a hand slowly through his perfectly tousled bleach blonde hair. He still thought something fishy was going on. His first instinct was to take the first wave home, but then he considered Ginger and Mary Ann. A more pulchritudinous pair was be hard to come by and the prospect of scoring with one or even both simultaneously was a notch he'd like to have on his board so to speak. This new revelation now gave him the time he needed to get to the bottom of the Ginger situation and even work on courting Mary Ann. It wasn't his usual way of operating, but he deemed the potential payoff worth it.

"Uh, you know, Pops it was nothing," stated the athletic Atlas. "Six to eight weeks should be plenty of time. I think I'll head out now. I've got something to take care of."

"I'll bet you do," said the Skipper suggestively as he watched Duke take off for what he assumed was a rendezvous with Ginger. He was about to add "don't do anything I wouldn't do", but as a wave of jealousy rose up inside him he realized that, quite frankly, was impossible.

As usual Gilligan was last to get the message and when he did it took him awhile to wrap his head around the implications.

His immediate reaction was one of anger and revulsion that Ginger would so blatantly throw herself at Duke and ruin the rescue. Slowly however it dawned on him that it was just Ginger and not Ginger and Mary Ann together referenced in the note and suddenly the cloud of frustration he'd been under since Duke arrived began to lift.

Gilligan was aware he knew less about women than anyone save, as he recently learned, the Professor, but he did know they didn't like to share men. Once it became clear Duke and Ginger were an item it would leave the door open for him to make his long awaited move on Mary Ann. Not only that, but with the rescue dashed their stay on the island would be extended which was fine with Gilligan. It would keep Ms. Summers away from Horace Higginbotham and any other suitors that might come out of the woodwork. Additionally, though he told no one, Gilligan liked island living. For a boy who enjoyed swimming, fishing, climbing trees and spending lazy afternoons on the beach it was a paradise; and now with Mary Ann back by his side for good it would be Heaven.

He started to wonder if Mary Ann already knew about Ginger's overture. He'd hate to be the one who had to break the news to her, but in his new more aggressive mind-set he realized sometimes a man's got to do some dirty work to get the desired result. Besides, he concluded, he'd be there to soothe and console her. Then he'd profess his love for her…and finally he'd take her in his arms and kiss her long and deep just like she was hoping he would that morning.

That he didn't know how was a concern, but as he headed out the door he figured he'd just press his lips against hers and let nature take its course.

"Nature, hmmm," he mumbled to himself. "Maybe that's what Skipper's been talking about. Though I don't see how a bird could kiss a bee…Ouch!"

**Sorry MAG shippers…in next chapter we'll see if Gilligan seals his relationship with Mary Ann with a long, slow, deep, wet kiss that lasts 3 days as Crash Davis said in "Bull Durham"…Thanks for reading.**


	8. Chapter 8

**For better or worse this simple tale has morphed into a monster of sophomoric puns and inane innuendos so for first time readers or those who've forgotten let me recap: 1) The reverse tsunami is pushed back 24 hours; 2) Frustrated by the Prof/Gilligan the girls go back to Duke; 3)The Howells and then Ginger concoct plans to get Duke back on the board; 4) The Professor develops a secret longshot Plan B, but Skipper leaks it to Duke; 5) Gilligan realizes he wants Mary Ann…and here we are. Thanks for reading.**

Skipper slipped back into the boy's hut and grabbed Ginger's now discarded note off the table. He felt he needed to present it to the Professor as defense of his decision to tell Duke about the secret Typhoon rescue plan. Before he left, however, he stopped, held the note to his nose, breathed in Ginger's intoxicating scent and began to fantasize what it'd be like to be in Duke's place right now.

"Hey Skipper! Watcha thinking about it," queried Gilligan stepping into the hut.

"Doesn't anyone knock anymore," demanded the annoyed Admiral as Gilligan destroyed another moment of bliss for him.

"But it's my hut," replied Gilligan looking around to make sure he hadn't made a mistake. Then seeing the paper in Skipper's hand he added, "I see you read Ginger's note, huh. Boy I wonder what she and Duke are up to right now. Probably doing…uh…stuff…and, you know…things…um like…in that way people do…I guess."

Skipper wasn't sure if Gilligan was that naïve or being discreet, but he didn't need any descriptions to imagine the stuff, things and way Ginger and Duke were doing them. "You know that reminds me," mused the Skipper slyly. "I've got to remember to ask Duke if the carpet matches the drapes…hee hee."

Gilligan look confused. "If you want interior decorating advice, Skipper, I really think you should see Mrs. Howell."

"Ugh…thanks for ruining another visual for me Gilligan." The Captain shook his head, eyed up his first mate and decided to change the subject, "So what're you up to Gilligan?"

"Well you'll be proud Skipper. I made a big decision. I'm gonna ask Mary Ann to be my girlfriend."

Gilligan puffed out his chest and Skipper had to admit he felt a fatherly pride for his little buddy, though he couldn't help teasing him just a little. "Good for you Gilligan, though I have to say it certainly took you long enough. Or in other words I haven't been sleeping on my back at night just because it's more comfortable if you know what I mean."

"Not really Skipper, but you can explain it to me some other time," said G-Man happy to have Skipper's approval. "I've been stalling long enough. Right now I'm going to find Mary Ann and punch the question to her!"

"Pop the question, Gilligan. Pop…no punching…try to remember that."

"Oh, right Skipper."

And with that Gilligan was off to claim his love while the Skipper took another whiff of the note, closed his eyes and set to daydreaming about the 'stuff' and 'things' he'd do to Ginger given half a chance.

However, just as Skipper was getting to the good part he was interrupted by another voice. This time it was the Professor, not Gilligan, and he was urgently calling everyone to the communal table.

"Take a seat Skipper there's some important news," informed the Prof. The radio stood in the center of the table, but Skipper couldn't remember if it was there previously or if the Professor had brought it with him.

The Howells came dawdling up and took a seat to the Professor's left. Skipper sat in his usual spot at the head of the table. Then just before the Professor was about to address them Skipper heard the last voice he ever expected at that moment.

"What's going on?" questioned Ginger as she approached from the path that led to the other side of the island.

Before he even turned around Skipper was already muttering vengefully to himself. "Looks like surfer boy shot the curl a little prematurely. Guess all his muscles couldn't help him with that." But when he finally saw Ginger taking a spot between himself and the Professor it looked like she had just stepped out of a beauty salon with every hair in place, her makeup and gown both immaculate. He wanted to find out exactly what occurred between her and Duke, but before he could question her the Professor had turned on the radio.

"I want you all to hear this," intoned Dr. Hinckley as the jingle for a soda brand faded out.

"…and now recapping our top story today," began the announcer. "The United States Navy has agreed to assist local authorities in the search for surfer Duke Williams who disappeared off Waimea Beach one week ago. This will allow for the search to be continued for several more days and the area covered to be extended by hundreds of square miles."

Professor switched off the radio, but was met by only quizzical looks. "What exactly does this mean for us," asked Mrs. Howell.

"Don't you see," started the Prof excitedly, "by extending the search it increases are odds of rescue exponentially. Over the five days it would take Duke to get to Hawaii he could wipeout, land on another deserted or uncivilized island or just wash back ashore here. Now in a little more than 2 days he can reach the search area and we're rescued. He has to be on that reverse tsunami tomorrow no ifs, ands or buts!"

"Well he'd be all but on his way if someone here could've controlled herself around Sir Loin of Beef or whatever title he's using now," said Mr. Howell correctly deducing that Ginger was the impetus behind the girls going back to Duke.

And it was this recrimination that set off a string of admissions from those assembled that revealed a web of schemes so tangled it would've made an Sambucca-soaked spider shudder.

First Ginger apologized and detailed the quid quo pro plan that she hoped would make up for her indiscretion. Then Mr. Howell explained how he sent Gilligan to tell Duke she was baby crazy which explained why the Hawaiian horndog never appeared for their rendezvous. Ginger and Howell both thought this could be rectified until Skipper divulged how he spilled the beans about Professor's Plan B which meant Duke now thought he had another two months to pursue the girls and likely wouldn't be going anywhere till then.

Suddenly in a rare display of temper the mild-mannered Professor slammed a fist on the table and looked at his fellow castaways disappointedly. "I can't believe you trying to pull off these half-cocked, uncoordinated plans," he began his sermon. "Ginger, I commend you for the quid and quo of your design, but about the 'pro' I'm worried. Just because you messed up doesn't mean you have to make it up by doing something you'll regret."

"Have you seen Duke, Professor, he's not exactly the kind of man a girl regrets," started the randy redhead impulsively. Then she realized the Professor was correct and felt something for him deep inside that went beyond physical attraction. "Actually thank you Professor. You're right and I appreciate your concern."

"As for you Mr. Howell, hatching a plan with Gilligan isn't one of the Wizard of Wall Street's best decisions."

"I agree. If a subordinate back at home pulled such a thing I'd have him licking envelopes in the mailroom till his tongue bled," answered Thurston.

"Lastly, Skipper, if there was one person I thought I could trust with a secret it was you."

"I apologize too," said the Captain rubbing the back of his neck. "From now on the only time I open my big mouth is to put food in it."

"In that case you should get a sign to put next to it that says 'Open All Night'," chirped Mr. Howell and instantly a war of words erupted.

"Listen here Howell…"; "How dare you talk to me like that…"; "Don't you raise your voice to my husband…"- the bitter bile flew until Ginger shrilly interrupted.

"What about Mary Ann!" screeched the adamant actress stopping the angry assertions cold. "Mr. Howell you explained why Duke avoided me, but not how you frightened him off Mary Ann."

"Oh well actually that's where Gilligan messed up…" answered Howell humbly.

"So you mean Duke could be out there right now stalking her?"

"Just wonderful," said the Professor petulantly. "We need to split up immediately and find her. Mr. Mrs. Howell you check the lagoon, Ginger you check your hut and Skipper you and I will investigate all the clearings. Yell if you find them."

Then as everyone set off Skipper remembered how Gilligan was out looking, in his words, to "punch the question" to Mary Ann. He only hoped Duke didn't get there at the same time. If so Skipper was afraid the question might just punch Gilligan back.

As the others were busy trading barbs and unraveling their myriad machinations Gilligan had already found Mary Ann by the Supply Hut. She was mumbling to herself and angrily smashing a coconut with a hammer leading Gilligan to believe she had already heard the news about Duke and Ginger and was taking out her frustration on the defenseless fruit.

"Hey Mary Ann. What's up?" Gilligan started.

"Oh, I have to be out of the hut for a while," she answered while dramatically rolling her eyes. "So I thought I'd make a coconut cream pie to kill some time, but this is the last coconut and it just won't crack."

Bam! Little Ms. Summers smashed the hammer down again to no avail. For a piece of Mary Ann's coconut cream pie Gilligan would gladly scale the nearest tree for a more malleable nut, but then a thought crossed his mind.

"I'll crack that for you Mary Ann," said Gilligan confidently as he took the hammer from her. He figured if he could break the coconut it would redeem him physically after being humiliated around Duke which in turn would lead to her forgetting about the surfer and ultimately agreeing to become his girlfriend. That he might end with a lion's share of the pie to top it all off only made him attack the offending coconut with that much more vigor.

Bam!...no luck.

Bam!...nothing.

Gilligan raised the hammer higher, held the coconut in place and…BAM!

"I think it's broken," he cried out.

Mary Ann picked up the nut, examined it, but couldn't find a crack.

"No, not the coconut," winced Gilligan, "my finger."

He held up his wounded thumb and Mary Ann examined it, cupping his hand gently and stroking the injured digit in the process.

"Can you bend it?" she asked and G-Man obliged. "Good, then it's not broken. Still we should go into the Supply Hut and find something to wrap it with."

Mary Ann's tenderness only made Gilligan more certain he wanted her by his side forever. He'd wait till she bandaged his thumb then let his feelings for her be known before sealing the deal with a kiss. But just as they were about to retire to the privacy of the Supply Hut there was a rustling on the path and out of the bush came…

"Duke!?" Mary Ann exclaimed with surprise.

Gilligan too was in shock. He took a step out from behind Mary Ann to get a better look at his athletic adversary, but Duke hardly seemed to acknowledge his presence.

The wave-running wolf pulled up short and took as non-threatening a pose as he could muster. Gilligan meanwhile couldn't help but notice the way Duke's chest, arms and shoulders strained at the t-shirt that normally hung like a tent on him.

Mary Ann cast a skeptical look and continued, "What are you doing here? I thought you were off with Ginger."

Duke flashed his most charming smile and Ms. Summers defenses couldn't help be knocked down just a bit. Then he stated, "Oh yeah, like, she wanted to meet me this afternoon, but I've actually been thinking more about you lately."

"You have," said Mary Ann flattered by the attention, her inhibitions retreating even further.

"Absolutely," replied Duke. "I mean you and I are both from Kansas and have a lot more in common."

"Yes, I always thought that."

"And besides that Ginger tends to come on a little strong don't you think."

At this point Gilligan couldn't take anymore. He let out a snort of derision at the idea of Duke finding anyone, let alone a gorgeous woman, too forward and with it seemed to catch the muscleman's eye for the first time.

"Hey little man, I didn't notice you there," Duke said cockily. "What're you doing with that hammer?"

Reflexively Gilligan had picked up the hammer when he saw Duke. The first time he hadn't been there to protect Mary Ann, but then again the way the girls drooled over Duke he thought they kinda had it coming. However, he was not about to let it happen again. Still he couldn't tell Duke that's why he was holding the potential weapon.

"Uh, I was trying to crack that coconut for Mary Ann," answered G-Man truthfully, but instantly he realized he opened up an opportunity that a showoff like Duke wouldn't fail to seize.

Grabbing the nut in one powerful paw he sized it up and confidently asserted, "I can take care of that for you, baby."

Mary Ann grinned and Gilligan grimaced. She was slowly giving in to the surfing Superman and Gilligan was slowly inching closer, ready for that moment Duke stepped over the line until…

"You'll need this hammer Duke," said the petite pie-maker as she deftly snatched the one equalizer from Gilligan's hand.

"Uh, that's alright," replied the cocksure Duke. "I've got the only tool I need right here."

He then flexed his right bicep as Mary Ann's eyes grew wide as saucers. "Oh, amazing Duke," she gushed. "That's the biggest muscle I've ever seen."

Indeed even Gilligan stared mouth agape at the protuberance that looked as large and hard as the coconut itself. How he would stand up to such a behemoth without protection he had no idea, but if it took him getting pulverized to give Mary Ann enough time to escape it was a sacrifice he'd gladly make.

Suddenly Duke brought his arm down, his hands together and began to squeeze the coconut until rope-like muscles stood up on his forearms. There was a popping noise and then he twisted until a crack formed along the length of the shell and finally pressing his thumbs down along this fissure he was able to separate the nut into two virtually equal halves that he handed to a thrilled Mary Ann.

"Unbelievable Duke," sighed the stunned Ms. Summers. "You're the strongest!"

Duke rubbed his hands and chuckled at the juxtaposition of Mary Ann holding the two milk-filled coconut halves directly in front of her chest. Even had Gilligan been more anatomically aware he probably wouldn't have found any humor as he could sense the moment of truth fast approaching.

"I love it when you perform feats of strength," continued Mary Ann. "It just gives me goose bumps all over…ahhh."

"Well then let me show you something else that I think will send a tingle up your spine," replied Duke.

Slowly, almost seductively, Duke's hands moved toward the waistband of his jeans. All her previous reservations gone Mary Ann watched innocently expectant and seeing this Gilligan felt a hot flash of fury sweep over his body. However, just as her bumbling bodyguard was set to spring into action Duke's right hand dropped into his pocket and pulled out a long vine knotted at the top with a shiny object hanging at the bottom.

"Mary Ann, baby, I know back in Kansas boys give girls a school ring to wear around their neck as a show of commitment," began Duke summoning up his most sincere tone. "So I want you to have this. Let's call it an apology for the way I acted yesterday."

That's when Gilligan realized why Duke was here instead of with Ginger. It was Howell's plan that Gilligan only partially executed that had scared Duke away from the actress and allowed him to produce the ring, obviously discovered buried among his barbells, which now entranced the first mate's first love. But there was no way, Gilligan thought, that Mary Ann could be buying this ridiculous act.

Unfortunately when Duke announced upon meeting the girls, "Stop dreaming the Duke has arrived!" in Mary Ann's case that was actually an understatement. Due to her sheltered, rural upbringing even the boys in Mary Ann's dreams couldn't compare to Duke and as young as she was she was willing to believe there was a man out there who had it all- looks, muscles, strength, confidence and a sweet, caring heart as well.

"Wow, Duke, this is fantastic," crowed the love-struck lovely as she slipped the crude necklace over her head. "Thank you so much. I thought it was weird when you mentioned you had been talking to Mrs. Howell this afternoon, but now I see why. You wanted a ring from her to give to the girl you chose to be with."

"Uh…yeah, that was it," replied Duke happy to let Ms. Summers fill in the details of the lie for him. "Now let's take a walk down to the beach and watch the sunset then I'll take you back to your hut so you can turn in early. I think we both had a long day."

Duke gave Mary Ann his arm without so much as an ungentlemanly glance down her shirt and Gilligan was flabbergasted. He couldn't believe this was the same guy who had regaled him with tales of one night stands, all night parties and a long list of female conquests that as Dorothy Parker once said, "if they were laid end to end…I wouldn't be surprised."

Thus Mary Ann walked off in heaven having bested the glamorous Ginger, her belief in Duke's inherent goodness confirmed and bagging a promise ring from a man sure to make Horace Higginbotham and all the girls of Horner's Corner eat their hearts out with a nice Chianti and a side of jealousy. Meanwhile Gilligan entered a living Hell with no girl, no love and, to add insult to injury as he looked down at the coconut halves left behind, no pie!


End file.
